


i'll tell you the truth (but never goodbye)

by favowiteperson



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Sam Evans, Cheerio Blaine Anderson, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Kinda, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, POV Sam Evans, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25218313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favowiteperson/pseuds/favowiteperson
Summary: Sam looks over at Blaine. His curly hair is falling into his face, wild and messy, but for once Blaine doesn’t seem to care how it looks. He’s smiling softly at Sam, a genuine smile, one that only ever appears when it’s just the two of them. The last rays of sunlight are shining through Blaine’s window, casting a warm glow over his eyes, his cheeks, his lips.I love you, Sam thinks,I love you, and I am going to let you break my heart.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sam Evans
Comments: 33
Kudos: 149





	i'll tell you the truth (but never goodbye)

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for the complete disregard of canon, i literally just wrote this for my flatmates so literally everything is inconsistent to the actual plot. like blaine is already a cheerio even though they haven't been to sectionals yet and also will schuester like.. gets fired lol. enjoy the blam though

The glee club is a mess. 

Granted, it’s always a mess, but this is a level of disaster that Sam has never witnessed before. 

It’s probably fair to say that Will Schuester wasn’t the most effective leader of the club, but he was something. But unfortunately — or to be completely honest, fortunately — the school board had realised that the common denominator in virtually every issue or scandal in the school has always been Will Schuester. And so, the glee club leader has been ‘temporarily relieved’ from his position (read: fired), and with no leader, the club is on the verge of being shut down. 

Tina and Marley have cried a combined total of seven times, and even Kitty seems a little put out. Sam hates to admit it, but he too has a sinking feeling in his stomach that he can’t quite ignore. He had always tried to convince himself that glee club was an irrelevant extracurricular that he did to pass the time, but eventually it became more than that. Sam knew deep down that the glee club is one of the best things in his life. He just never expected to be the one leading it. Until, well —

“We need to take charge of the glee club.”

Sam has always liked Blaine. He’s nice, charming, and super talented. And his ideas have always been good. Until now.

“Are you serious?” Sam asks, staring at Blaine like he’s speaking a different language. 

When Blaine had called Sam for a ‘private meeting’ in the choir room, he had assumed it had been to get advice on his next Katy Perry cover, or his opinion on his new brand of hair gel or something. But this? This is —

“Crazy!” Sam exclaims, “You’re crazy!”

“Hear me out—”

“No, no,” Sam shakes his head vigorously, “This is a job for Rachel, or Finn, or—”

“Okay, but in case you haven’t noticed, Sam,” Blaine says, walking around the piano to stand in front of the other boy, “Rachel and Finn aren’t here. It’s up to us.”

It’s not like Sam would be particularly opposed to leading the glee club with Blaine or anything: the club is great, and Blaine is a cool dude. It’s just… he feels like he’s not quite up to the job. He’s never been the leadership type. Sure, he had basically raised his siblings by himself, but even back then Quinn and Kurt helped him out. An entire group of people, of his friends, looking to him for instruction. God, he’s going to have to find a way to get them a win at sectionals. It’s only then that Sam realises he’s started thinking about this as if he’s actually going to agree to it.

“But _why_? Why us?” Sam asks desperately.

“Because,” Blaine sighs, “Who else is going to do it?”

⁎

Sam didn’t want to be in this position, he really didn’t. But Blaine gave him that little pleading face he does when he wants something, and what was Sam _meant_ to do? Say no? 

And so here he is, sprawled out on Blaine's bed, watching the other boy pace around his room and rattle off ideas of ways to actually get the school to let them do this.

“What if we appeal to principal Figgins?” 

“You’re kidding right?” Sam says, “When has principal Figgins ever listened to us?”

Blaine sighs and finally stops pacing, flopping down on his bed next to Sam, joining the other boy in staring at the ceiling. 

“Blackmail?”

“Blaine Anderson!” Sam chides, feigning shock and flinging out a hand to gently hit Blaine's arm, “We are not resorting to crime!”

“Why not?”

“I ain’t goin’ back to prison,” Sam says in an accent that he thinks is Southern, and Blaine laughs. Sam internally files the impression into the ‘Makes Blaine Laugh’ folder in his head. 

“Besides,” Sam says, “We don’t have any blackmail material on him anyway.”

Blaine hums thoughtfully.

“Actually,” he says, “I think Coach Sylvester has some on him.”

“Are you kidding?” Sam asks incredulously, “You want to go to Sue Sylvester for help? She would never do anything to help the glee club. Never in a million years.”

“But maybe since I’m a cheerio now—” Blaine starts, but Sam abruptly cuts him off.

“Blaine,” he says, “Don’t kid yourself. No matter how cute you look in your little uniform, you know she would throw a protein shake in your face for even asking.” 

“You think I look cute in my uniform?”

“Besides,” Sam continues as if Blaine hasn’t spoken, “If we let Sue find out that the glee club could be shut down, she will make _sure_ that it happens.” 

Blaine groans and rolls onto his front, burying his head in a pillow. 

“This is useless,” Blaine says, voice so muffled by the fabric Sam has to strain his ears to make out the words. 

“Hey,” Sam says, nudging Blaine’s unmoving form with a socked foot, “C’mon, man.”

“Leave me alone,” Blaine mumbles, “I’m trying to suffocate myself.”

“Nope, no, none of that,” Sam says, shuffling along the bed and poking Blaine in the side, “No suicide attempts during bro time.” 

Blaine huffs and lifts his head from the pillow, curly hair sticking out in all directions. 

“I love it when you don’t wear any hair gel,” Sam says vaguely, “You look like a poodle.”

“What?” Blaine asks.

“Wait!” Sam says, sitting bolt upright on the bed. “I have an idea.”

“Okay, is this an idea where you don’t compare me to a dog again? Because that sounds great.”

Sam ignores Blaine, instead looking at him with a sudden intense focus.

“Blaine,” he says seriously. 

“Uhh,” Blaine sits up slowly, as if Sam is a bomb that could be set off with any sudden movement, “...Hi? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Date me.”

Blaine chokes on the sentence, entire body going rigid and his face flushing pink. 

“I’m sorry, _what_?”

Sam ignores Blaine’s sudden change in demeanour, leaning forward excitedly. Blaine inches backwards slightly, looking everywhere but Sam’s face.

“Okay, hear me out,” Sam says, “What does Figgins hate more than our weekly glee club drama?”

“Um,” Blaine tilts his head in confusion, cheeks still pink, “Running a school properly?”

“Parent complaints!” Sam says, looking extremely proud of himself. 

“Okay, but h-how does this relate to us… y’know…” Blaine trails off, gesturing between the two of them.

“So here's my plan,” Sam says, practically bouncing in his seat, “We march into principal Figgins office and demand that he let us run the glee club. Then, if he says no, we accuse him of discriminating against us because we’re in a gay relationship, and tell him we’ll expose him for being a bigot!”

“Sam, that’s _crazy_!” Blaine splutters, “First of all, we aren’t even dating—”

“We don’t have to be!” Sam says, “We just need to convince Figgins we are. And you and I both know that wont be hard, everyone already thinks we’re together—”

“They do?!”

“— and then all we have to do is accuse principal Figgins of discriminating against us and BOOM! He lets us do what we want to avoid angry phone calls. It’s genius!” 

“It’s insane,” Blaine says, shaking his head fondly.

“So insane that it just might work…?” Sam asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Blaine laughs, rolling his eyes. 

“I don’t think—”

“No, no,” Sam says, cutting the other boy off, “We are not having Logical Blaine Time. This _is_ going to work.”

Sam shuffles around so he’s crossed legged on the bed facing Blaine, and takes the other boy’s hand.

“Blaine Warbler,—”

“— not my name —”

“— will you do me the honor of being my fake boyfriend?” 

Blaine stiffens up again, hands going clammy in Sam’s grasp. Sam winces slightly and is about to pull away and apologise for making him uncomfortable when he feels Blaine squeeze his hands. 

“Okay,” Blaine says, “Deal.”

⁎

It works, in the end. 

Standing there in front of principal Figgins desk with his hand intertwined with Blaine’s, Sam felt slightly nervous, although he couldn’t put his finger on why. 

But it turns out he had nothing to be worried about, since principal Figgins told him hastily that no, of course he wasn’t being discriminatory towards them, and he supposes since the glee club is technically an extracurricular activity he could allow students to run it. Sam isn’t too sure if that's actually true or if Figgins just said that because he was afraid that he and Blaine were going to report him to the school board on the spot if he didn't do what they wanted, but either way he chalks it up as a win. 

They’re halfway down the hallway heading towards the choir room when Sam realises he’s still holding Blaine’s hand. 

“Oh,” Sam says, dropping the other boy's hand, “Sorry, dude.”

“It’s… fine,” Blaine says slowly, staring at his now empty hand as if he hadn’t noticed they had been still holding hands either.

“Well,” Sam says, rubbing his hands together, “Let’s go tell the others the good news.”

“We seriously just saved the glee club. I still can’t believe your stupid plan worked,” Blaine says as they continue walking down the corridor, bumping his shoulder against Sam’s.

“I told you, man. I’m a genius,” Sam grins.

“The time you tried to cook a piece of toast with a lighter begs to differ,” Blaine says.

“My toaster was broken!” Sam exclaims, “What was I meant to do?”

“Anything else, Sam. Literally anything else.”

They round the corner and walk into the choir room together, where the rest of New Directions are spread out across the room chatting amongst each other. 

“Hey guys,” Blaine sing-songs, excitement clear in his voice, “We have some good news!”

“We already know!” Tina beams, rushing up to them and taking both Sam and Blaine by their hands. “You got the glee club back!” 

“Yeah, we — How did you know?” Blaine asks.

“A cheerio heard you talking about it just now in the hallways, and she text Kitty, who text Artie, who text me, and I told everyone!” Tina says all in one breath, smile never leaving her face. “Usually I would be skeptical about students running the glee club, but you two make such a great couple. I’m not worried at all!”

Sam blinks slowly, absorbing the information. Blaine seems to have the realisation at about the same time he does.

“O-oh, no,” Blaine stutters, “We’re not—”

“Tina’s right,” Artie says, wheeling up to them, “We were panicking a little, but ever since you two started dating you’ve been really leading this team well, official leaders or not. It puts us all at ease.”

“But we — we aren’t —” Blaine starts again, but is immediately interrupted.

“Yep!” Sam cuts in before his brain can catch up with his mouth, “Good thing we’re dating!” 

⁎

“What the _hell_ was that?” Blaine hisses the second they’re alone, standing in an empty classroom that he had dragged them into the second the bell rang. 

“What?” Sam says, raising his hands in surrender, “I was helping!”

“In what possible way is telling the others that we’re dating _helping_?” 

“You heard what Tina and Artie said,” Sam says, “The only thing putting their minds at ease is our amazing boyfriend leadership!”

“Okay, yeah, one small issue,” Blaine says, as though he’s forcing the words out, “ _We aren’t boyfriends_.” 

“Yes, but they don’t have to know that! You and I both know that if we tell them the truth, all of the confidence they have in us will be lost, so why not just… let them believe?”

There’s a silence as Blaine processes the words, and Sam decides to jump in again before the other boy can get all Blaine about it and overthink it. 

“Listen, bro.” Sam starts tentatively, and Blaine pointedly looks away, determined to ignore anything that the other boy says.

“Dude,” Sam tries, “Homie. Buddy. My platonic boyfriend. Sweetheart. Honey—” 

“Okay, okay!” Blaine says, cheeks flushing, “Enough of that.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking you. If you don’t wanna do this, I get it,” Sam says, “We can tell them the truth, or— or stage a fake breakup or something. Whatever you wanna do.”

Blaine sighs, twisting his hands nervously in the sleeves of his cheerios uniform. 

“I—” He lets out a sigh and squares his shoulders, “Okay, I’ll do it.” 

Blaine shakes his head, and Sam watches as a loose curl bounces across his forehead. He has to shove his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching over to brush it away. He’s not sure why. 

“For the team,” Blaine says.

“Yeah, of course,” Sam says vacantly, “For the team.”

⁎

The thing about running a glee club, Sam discovers, is that it actually takes effort.

Along with planning for sectionals, they have to come up with weekly lessons that the others not only can find a suitable song for, but also care about. That’s not even taking into account the constant drama that is going on, both between the glee club and outside forces and within the club itself. Jake lands himself in detention so often he ends up missing three whole meetings, Kitty has made Marley cry on four separate occasions, and Sam is pretty sure Artie has a crush on Tina again, who he knows for a fact is still in love with Mike despite the distance. 

Lucky for Sam, Blaine is an organised person — well, more organised than him, which truthfully is not difficult — and he has a multitude of ideas both for the sectionals setlist and weekly lessons written down neatly in little notebooks. Sam is over at Blaine’s house almost every afternoon, discussing his ideas and stealing all of his Doritos. They make a good team, Sam thinks. Blaine does all of the things Sam can’t, like the reading and writing (Sam’s dyslexia is still extremely bad), and Sam is there to help with the music and chipping in his own ideas, which Blaine eagerly jots down.

That’s something Sam really likes about Blaine: he never makes Sam feel stupid. But more than that, he makes Sam feel like his contributions are useful, like he’s important. The best part is, Sam is sure that he’s not pretending — that's really how Blaine feels. Sam isn’t really used to consistent validation, at least not any that is actually genuine, and the longer they run the glee club together, the better Sam feels.

There is also the added bonus that he and Blaine are spending even more time together than they did before, which Sam didn’t actually know was possible. Every weekend, every lunch break, every free period, he’s either with Blaine, or texting Blaine, or telling the person he is with that sorry, but he’s gotta go find Blaine now. It’s not like he feels obligated to, it’s just that at any given moment he would rather be hanging out with Blaine, and this whole glee club thing has given him an excuse to do just that without looking like a clingy best friend following Blaine around like a lost puppy. 

This has of course done wonders to keep people convinced that they’re dating, which apparently is something that is going to be continuing indefinitely. Blaine had half-heartedly suggested a fake breakup again, but after the Tuesday lunch incident where Sam had offhandedly made a comment about a cute girl and Tina had promptly burst into tears, sobbing out something about Sam cheating on Blaine and how love is dead, they both quickly ruled that out. At least until Tina is more emotionally stable. 

For the time being, though, it’s kinda… nice. He and Blaine just do what they usually do: hang out, play video games, share pizza, geek out together at lunch. It’s just that now they do it a bit more frequently and stand a bit closer than they normally would. Sam isn’t even phased when the news spreads to people outside of the glee club, something that he finds out about when a guy from the football team high fives him in the hallway and congratulates him on getting together with “that cute Cheerios twink”, whatever that means. Honestly, Sam is kind of flattered that people think he’s in Blaine’s league, because in Sam’s mind Blaine should be dating like, a hot celebrity or a millionaire or something. 

So Sam settles into his new role as Blaine’s fake boyfriend, and really, really tries not to think about why he’s so comfortable with it. 

⁎

The hand holding was something Sam thought would take him a while to get used to. After one glee club meeting where Kitty had commented that they never seem to hold hands like, ever, which in turn set Tina off again about them breaking up and love being dead, they had reached a mutual agreement to start holding hands around school. Well, the ‘mutual agreement’ had mainly consisted of Sam taking Blaine’s hand that day on the way to history class with a questioning look and Blaine shrugging and squeezing Sam’s hand, but they have always been able to understand each other without words. Sam thinks that if they really tried, they could communicate telepathically. 

So the hand holding became a thing, and Sam was surprised to find the adjustment period was extremely short. Two and a half days to be exact. By that point, Sam’s reaching for Blaine’s hand out of pure instinct almost any time he’s in the position to do so.

Holding Blaine’s hand wasn’t… bad. In fact, it was kinda nice. Blaine's hand was smaller than his and super soft, which stands to reason, since Sam knows for a fact he moisturises them daily. Also, holding hands with Blaine means that Sam doesn't get lost in the corridors anymore, something that used to happen frequently, since Sam tends to zone out and get swept up in the crowds of students making their way to and from classes.

So at the end of the day, there really was no downside to their new arrangement. 

Until, well —

“Gay!” 

The ice cold impact of slushie hits him like a brick wall, and he halts in his tracks as the freezing, artificial red ice shavings drip down his face and neck. It’s not Sam’s first time being slushied, but it’s never a pleasant experience. He turns to Blaine to see the other boy similarly covered in ice, but his a bright blue pigment instead. Sam spins around ready to throw a punch at whoever was behind this, but he only manages to catch a glimpse of the back of some Hockey team jackets rounding the corner before Blaine tugs him away to the deserted gym locker room. 

“I knew this would happen,” Blaine mutters, furiously wiping slushie out of his eyes and rifling through Sam’s locker for a towel. 

Sam dodges around Blaine and grabs his towel off the hook on the locker door, turning to the other boy to assess the damage. 

Blaine’s entire face is covered, chunks of blue ice still dripping down his face and staining his pristine white and red Cheerios uniform. He looks distraught.

“You’re looking a little blue,” Sam jokes, trying to cheer the other boy up.

“Coming from you,” Blaine says, and Sam is inordinately pleased to see that he is smiling softly, “You look like Elmo threw up on you.”

“If we kissed we’d make purple,” Sam says offhandedly, and Blaine lets out a choked noise of surprise. 

“What?”

“I don’t know, man,” Sam says, lifting the towel to Blaine’s face, “Let me clean this.”

Blaine sighs but doesn’t argue, going pliant under Sam’s touch as he gently wipes the slushie off his face. The blue dye immediately seeps into the white towel, and Sam winces when he thinks about how Sue Sylvester is going to react to Blaine getting his Cheerios uniform so badly stained. 

Sam is wiping the ice off Blaine’s neck when the boy speaks up.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says, uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Huh?” Sam asks, stepping away from Blaine slightly, “What for?”

“I’m the reason you got slushied,” Blaine sighs, “I _knew_ this would happen.”

“Okay, hold up,” Sam says, “‘Cause you are making zero sense right now.”

Blaine shakes his head, grabbing the towel off Sam and starting to clean off the other boy's face.

“One,” Sam says as Blaine wipes red ice off his cheek, “You got slushied too, not just me. Second, in what possible way is this your fault?”

Blaine is quiet for a moment, delicately running a thumb underneath Sam’s eye to brush away the slushie. Sam’s stomach feels weird for a moment, but then Blaine replaces his thumb with the towel again, and the feeling passes. 

“I’m gay,” Blaine says bluntly. 

“I know this,” Sam says, blinking slowly in confusion, “We’ve had several conversations about this. Did the impact of the slushie give you a concussion or something?”

“I just mean,” Blaine continues, “They slushied you because of me. Because I’m gay and you were with me.” 

“They slushied us because they are homophobic jerks and we were holding hands,” Sam says, “It’s because they think we’re both gay, not just you.”

“Yes, but you’re _not_ gay,” Blaine stresses, wiping the slushie from Sam’s neck now, “And it’s because of me that they think you are. Sam, you shouldn’t have to deal with this—” 

“ _You_ shouldn’t have to deal with this!” Sam says, catching Blaine’s wrist with his own hand and halting him, “And this is _not_ your fault. In case you forgot, I’m the one who started this whole fake dating thing.”

“But I agreed to it,” Blaine says, and Sam feels his heart clench at the quiver in Blaine’s voice, “I never should have agreed to it. I put you in danger. I’m used to the comments and the slushies, but you— this shouldn’t have happened to you.”

“Are you kidding me? This should never happen to you either.” 

Sam is angry at first, but his tone rapidly changes when he sees the tears in Blaine’s eyes. He immediately stops speaking, his eyes wide and his chest tightening. It kinda feels like when he’s playing football and someone tackles him, slamming him onto his back and knocking the breath out of him. Blaine is _crying_ , and Sam can’t breathe.

“Oh. Oh, no,” Sam’s hands flutter useless around Blaine, “No, no, Blaine, please don’t cry.”

“Sorry,” Blaine says again, sniffling. Sam has never heard Blaine apologise this much in one conversation, and it’s this that kicks him into gear. He wraps his arms around Blaine, pulling the other boy in close to his chest. 

“Shut up,” Sam says, “Shut up, you’re the worst. I love you.”

Blaine’s wet laugh is muffled where his face is pressed against Sam’s chest. 

“Love you, too,” Blaine whispers.

“Listen to me,” Sam says, resting his head on top of Blaine’s slushie soaked hair, “This is not your fault in the slightest. You’re my best friend. Any slushie that they’re going to throw at you, they can throw at me too. I’m all in this thing, as long as you are.”

Blaine pulls out of the embrace, looking up at Sam with those big wet eyes that make Sam want to simultaneously wrap the boy in a blanket and store him somewhere safe and also beat the crap out of anyone who has ever hurt him.

“Are you sure?” Blaine asks, “That’s a lot of slushies.”

“I would get slushied a thousand times for you, Blaine Warbler.” Sam says, and wonders why it sounds like a confession.

⁎

As if the universe had heard Sam’s promise and was eager to get him to fulfil it, they get slushied again the following Monday.

Blaine, who had been walking slightly in front of him, took the brunt of it this time. While Sam only had a small splatter of ice across his cheek, Blaine’s entire outfit was soaked. Sam winces, knowing Blaine had only just gotten his Cheerios uniform back from the dry-cleaners after the last incident. Sam moves to follow whoever slushied them and maybe break a nose or two, but once again Blaine grabs him by the wrist and trudges towards the locker room, almost out of pure instinct. Like it’s a routine. Sam feels sick.

“Just how often does this happen, exactly?” Sam asks once they reach the locker room.

“Having second thoughts?” Blaine jokes with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Not at all,” Sam says, grabbing his towel and quickly wiping his own face before tossing it to Blaine, “I just can’t believe I’ve never noticed before.”

“Well they usually get me when I’m alone,” Blaine says matter-of-factly, cleaning the slushie off himself.

“And you never told me about this before?” Sam asks.

“It isn’t your problem,” Blaine states, and then, with an apologetic wince: “Well, it _wasn’t_ your problem.”

Sam is about to go on another rant about how stupid his best friend is when Blaine speaks up again, now staring into his own open locker with a look of defeat. 

“Oh, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Sam says, “Is there a mouse living in your locker? ‘Cause that happened to me once. I named him Jerry.”

“No, I— What? No,” Blaine shakes his head, “I usually keep a spare change of clothes in here for when I get slushied, but I wore them last time and forgot to replace them.”

Sam remembers that: Blaine pulling out a full crisply ironed outfit — bowtie included, of course — from his locker, while Sam had to spend the rest of the day wearing an old tank top from his gym bag that he usually wore while working out. Blaine assured him that it was a great look, but Sam wasn’t so sure. 

“Here,” Sam says, promptly pulling his plain black, slushie free hoodie over his head and tossing it to Blaine, “Wear this.”

Blaine catches the clothing item and eyes Sam, now clad in only a t-shirt, skeptically.

“Are you sure? You’ll be freezing.” 

“Dude,” Sam says, “I’ve shown up to school shirtless before, this is nothing.”

Blaine just stares back at him, eyes narrowed, clearly deciding whether to accept the offer or not.

“Put it on,” Sam says, “Or I’ll never let you win at Mario Kart again.”

“Hey!” Blaine says indignantly, “You do not _let me_ win! I do that on my own.” 

“Even on Rainbow Road?” Sam raises an eyebrow.

Blaine snaps his mouth shut and huffs, pulling the hoodie over his head to the sound of Sam’s laughter. 

The hoodie had been slightly big on Sam, but it’s _huge_ on Blaine. The fabric swamps him, the bottom of it falling to his mid-thigh and the sleeves completely covering his hands. Sam’s brain short-circuits. He looks _cute_. Well, to be completely fair, Blaine always looks cute. This is not something Sam has ever denied, it’s just objectively true: the sky is blue, water is wet, and Blaine Anderson is adorable. Fact. But this is different, somehow. Blaine being cute doesn’t usually give Sam and overwhelming urge to hold his hand, or pull him into a hug, or —

“Okay,” Blaine says, completely oblivious to Sam’s internal crisis, “Let’s go before we’re late to class.”

“Uhhh,” Sam says, “Yep! Yeah, let’s do that. Great idea!”

“Are you… okay?” Blaine says, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m excellent,” Sam calls over his shoulder, walking very quickly toward the door, “Just super excited to get to class.”

“Hey, wait up!” Blaine says, jogging to catch up.

“No,” Sam says, “Either get longer legs or put on a pair of rollerskates and hold onto my sleeve, we don’t have all day.”

Blaine snorts fondly and hits Sam’s arm with one of his sweater paws, which just sets Sam’s brain off again. _Why_ does he feel like this? Every time he looks at Blaine in that stupid hoodie his stomach does somersaults and a feeling of warmth creeps up the back of his neck. There must be a logical explanation for this, Sam reasons. Like… like… maybe he associates somebody else wearing his hoodies with girlfriends, and therefore his brain is making certain… connections. Yes, that must be it. His brain is just confused and is projecting these thoughts of affection, and hand holding, and other things that Sam really does not want to delve into right now onto Blaine. 

And so, as Brittany and Tina coo over Blaine at lunch, and ramble on about how cute they are for sharing clothes, Sam takes comfort in the fact that as soon as Blaine is out of that hoodie everything will go back to normal, and he won't be confused about his feelings for the other boy again.

⁎

He was very wrong. 

It’s during an afternoon glee club meeting that Sugar announces that she’s going to be having a party for the glee club at her house for… Sam can’t actually remember what it’s for. Sugar throws parties so often, they all kind of blend together for him at this point. Still, the entire glee club shows up every time, so it’s not like it matters all that much anyway. 

He and Blaine would usually go to these kinds of things together, but the glee girls had whisked Blaine away after school that day. Tina claimed they were having a fashion crisis and needed Blaine’s help, Marley kept giggling and sharing glances with Unique, and Kitty just fixed Sam with a hard glare that indicated that any form of resistance from either Sam or Blaine would be ignored. And so, reluctantly, Sam lets Blaine be dragged away into a group of chatting girls with an apologetic wave. 

He gets ready for the party by himself, only getting distracted four or five times, and heads over to Sugar’s house just as dusk falls.

The party is already in full swing when Sam arrives. Sugar’s basement is lit up with several strings of fairy lights and a disco ball hung from the ceiling, and is full of drunk teenagers. A ping pong table has been converted to host a game of beer pong, which Ryder and Jake seem very intensely focused on while Sugar cheers them on from her spot perched on Artie’s lap. Kitty and Marley are huddled around the sound system, finding a way to connect karaoke microphones to the speakers. Joe and Brittany are in an empty patch of basement that is acting as a dance floor, apparently having a competition of who can do the strangest, most physically challenging dance move, which Brittany is unsurprisingly winning. Sam tosses his backpack full of beer he had managed to score under one of the snack tables, grabbing one to drink as he makes his way through the party looking for Blaine. Just as he’s about to ask somebody where his friend is, Tina and Unique come stumbling down the stairs, giggling and dragging Blaine behind them.

Sam understood what the girls had spent all that time before the party doing. Blaine is dressed in black ripped jeans and soft red sweater, the collar of a button up peeking over the top of the sweater. Not his usual style, but also something that doesn’t at all look out of place on him.

‘Private school boy chic,’ Sam's brain supplies, though he’s not exactly sure what that means. 

There is something slightly different about Blaine’s face too. It’s not that he’s wearing makeup exactly, but… he might be? It’s hard for Sam to tell. There’s a faint glow on his cheekbones, and his lips are shiny and slightly tinted, and there’s a flush to his cheeks that Sam thinks might be blush. Sam feels weird about it for a second and immediately feels guilty for being judgemental — boys can totally wear makeup, he knows that — but after a while realises that the weird feeling he has isn’t necessarily a bad one. In fact, Sam thinks Blaine looks… well, he looks good. 

His hair is not gelled down, but instead in his natural curls. Something looks slightly different about them though, they are less fuzzy and more shiny and defined. Unique keeps touching them and clapping her hands in approval. Tina reaches the bottom of the stairs and spots Sam, swaying on the spot a little before running towards him.

“Sammy!” She cries, wrapping her arms around him, “You’re finally here! Your boy missed you. We had to take him upstairs and give him tequila shots just to get him to shut up.”

Unique and Blaine join them, and as they get closer, Sam realises the flush on Blaine’s cheeks isn’t from blush, but is a natural tint from the amount of alcohol he’s undoubtedly been drinking upstairs. The moment the other two join them, Tina is at Blaine's side, grinning mischievously. 

“Well, there you go, Blainey-days,” Tina says, pushing him into Sam, “Your boyfriend is here, you can stop complaining now.” 

“I wasn’t complaining,” Blaine protests, stumbling a little from the momentum of Tina’s shove, and Sam grabs his waist to stabilise him.

“ _Whyyyy isn’t Sammy here yet_?” Tina mocks in a terrible impression of Blaine, “ _I want to see Sam_.”

“Shut _up_ , Tina,” Blaine whines, but does nothing more to deny it, instead turning to face Sam.

“Hey,” Blaine says, sounding so genuinely excited to see him that Sam feels warmth rush through his body.

“Hey yourself,” Sam says, pulling the other boy into a hug, “You having fun?”

“Mhm,” Blaine says, smiling up at Sam after breaking the embrace, “They gave me a makeover.”

“I see that,” Sam laughs, and then, because he has absolutely no self-restraint: “You look beautiful.” 

Sam isn’t sure why ‘beautiful’ was the word he chose to use — it’s just what he felt, and Sam has always had a problem with just saying what he feels without thinking about it. It’s not exactly something that you call your bro, and he panics for a second before he remembers everyone thinks they’re dating anyway. Everyone except Blaine, who freezes for a moment, and Sam regrets every decision he has ever made in his life. 

But then Blaine smiles, eyes shining in the glow of the fairy lights and says, softly: “Really?”

“Really,” Sam says, and Tina coos from behind them, effectively shattering the moment.

“You two are so cute,” she says, “Disgusting, but cute.”

“I know,” Sam says, slinging an arm around Blaine's shoulder, causing the other boy to sway a little on his feet, “How much have you guys had to drink, anyway?”

“Sugar made us some drinks before the party started,” Unique says, “We had one or two.”

“Or seven,” Blaine says vaguely.

Sam opens his mouth to comment but is distracted by Kitty twirling over to them, a red solo cup in each hand.

“Hey guys,” she says, thrusting one of the cups into Blaine’s hand, “Blaine, drink.”

Blaine doesn’t seem fazed at all, simply accepting the cup and taking a sip. 

Sam shoots Kitty a questioning look but she just rolls her eyes and mouths the word ‘later’.

The rest of the night progresses like this. They sing, they dance, they play beer pong, and any time Blaine’s cup is empty, one of the girls will sidle up to them and slip him a drink. Blaine himself doesn’t seem to question this, but Sam can not figure out why everyone seems determined to keep Blaine drunk. Each time he tries to ask about it, though, he gets distracted by a dance-off breaking out, or a great song coming on, or a particularly impressive shot happening in whatever game of beer pong is happening at that moment. This time, as he makes a beeline for Kitty to get some answers, he is distracted by Blaine’s hand shooting out and catching him around the wrist. 

“Sam,” he says, only slurring a little bit, which is impressive considering how much he’s had to drink, “Sing a duet with me?” 

He gestures over to the makeshift stage and the set of microphones that Kitty and Marley had finally gotten to work, where Sugar and Unique were putting down the microphones after their upbeat cover of a One Direction song.

Sam nods and lets himself be dragged toward the stage by an excited and slightly stumbling Blaine. He stands back as Blaine flicks through the song options, humming thoughtfully.

“Do you know any Taylor Swift?” Blaine asks, turning to Sam.

“Uhh,” Sam wracks his brain, “Maybe some of her old stuff?” 

He moves closer to Blaine, checking over the list of songs before pointing to one he recognises.

“I know that one,” Sam says, and Blaine chuckles softly. 

“Of course,” Blaine says, clicking on the backing track for ‘You Belong With Me’.

They get through the first half of the song much better than he thought they would, and Sam finds that once the music kicks in he does, in fact, know all of the lyrics. He’s not sure if he should be embarrassed or proud of that. Until Blaine beams at him and he decides that yeah, proud. Definitely proud.

“ _Oh, I remember you drivin' to my house in the middle of the night_ ,” Blaine sings, still looking at Sam, “ _I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry_.”

Sam suddenly finds it very hard to breathe, and he wonders if the smoke drifting over from where Joe and Tina are passing a joint back and forth in the corner is getting to him, messing with his lungs. They should take the anti-drug pledge they all signed in middle school more seriously, Sam thinks.

“ _And I know your favorite songs, and you tell me ‘bout your dreams_ ,” Sam sings back, “ _Think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me_.”

It’s a relief when Blaine has the next few lines, and Sam takes the opportunity to collect himself, joining in for the end of the song. The room cheers and Brittany climbs onto stage begging one of them to sing some Britney Spears song with her, and since Sam’s knowledge of the singers discography is limited, he lets Blaine take this one, climbing off the stage and heading over to the table to grab another drink. 

Kitty is at the table when he arrives, mixing vodka with what looks like just another brand of vodka, and Sam seizes his chance.

“So,” Sam says, getting right to the point, “Why does everyone keep making Blaine drink?”

“Hello to you too,” she says, but doesn’t appear to be bothered at all, “If Blaine gets sober he’ll ruin all of our hard work.”

“What?” Sam asks, grabbing a drink for himself.

Kitty sighs, now adding a bright pink soda to her vodka concoction.

“Blaine is insecure about his hair,” She says bluntly, “The outfit, too, I guess. And the makeup. And everything else, really.”

“What?” Sam repeats, heart dropping to his stomach.

“Yeah,” Kitty says nonchalantly, “We have to keep him drunk to stop him from running off and gelling his hair down or something.”

“But he looks great,” Sam says, shaking his head as if that will clear it but only ends up making him dizzy.

“I know that,” Kitty says, “And you know that. But he doesn’t.”

Sam wonders if it’s possible to feel your own heart breaking. If it was, he’s sure it would feel something like this.

“Anyway,” Kitty continues, “As long as he’s tipsy he seems to forget about his insecurities for a while. I don’t really get it, I mean, he’s pretty hot if you ignore the triangle eyebrows. The girls seem pretty set on making sure he has a good time, at least for tonight.”

“Well,” Sam says, “It does seem like he’s having a good time.”

“He is,” Kitty says, with the hint of a smile, “Look at him.”

Sam turns to look at the stage where Blaine and Brittany are belting the lyrics to a song that Sam doesn’t know the name of, and he takes a moment to appreciate the fact that they both are hitting every note perfectly despite being incredibly drunk. The disco ball that Sugar put up for the party — or just had in her basement at all times? Sam wouldn’t be surprised — spins above them, bathing them in speckles of light. Blaine is spinning around, curls bouncing, smiling so hard his eyes crinkle, and he’s _beautiful_. 

_I love him_ , Sam thinks, _I am in love with him_.

And then, _oh_.

_Oh, no._

⁎

Nothing drastically changes after Sam realises he’s in love with Blaine. There’s no confusion — in fact, everything seems to make a lot more sense now. It’s as if Sam has always felt this way, but has only just realised exactly what the feeling is. That thought makes him pause and consider just how long he’s loved Blaine. Weeks? Months? Years? He’s not sure when his feelings for Blaine morphed into something more than friendship, but he’d be lying if he said it felt wrong. If anything, it feels… inevitable. Blaine is kind, and understanding, and Sam can’t think of a single person who can make him feel as happy as Blaine can. 

There is of course, the small issue that up until now Sam had thought he was straight. He gets over it pretty quickly. Honestly, he had never been one for labels anyway. It’s not Blaine being a dude that's messing with his head, it’s more the fact that… he has no idea what to do now. Usually he would go to Blaine with these things, but that's out of the question, and it’s not like he can talk to anyone else about this, since everyone thinks that he’s dating Blaine already. The other more pressing issue is that now he has discovered his feelings for Blaine, he has realised it is very hard to ignore them. Sam has always struggled with hiding his feelings, but to be in a fake relationship with the person he’s in love with? It’s a recipe for disaster, and leaves Sam on edge, wondering when it’s all going to fall apart. 

Sam is prepared for the awkwardness, the discomfort, the hastily formulated lies. What he’s not prepared for, however, is for it to hurt. And it doesn’t, not at first. Above anything else, Blaine is his best friend, and that doesn’t change. So for the most part, Sam continues being completely content with the relationship that they do have, and he’s happy just being around Blaine. Until the following Thursday, when Sam and Blaine are at their favorite comic book store together, flipping through the issues. They have a little routine where they will choose a series each and flip through them in the store, trying to figure out the plot without actually purchasing them. Sam is sure that Blaine could probably afford to buy out the entire store, but it’s more fun this way. 

“Ugh,” Blaine says, looking down at his comic and wrinkling his nose, “These characters suck.”

“Why?” Sam questions, flipping through several pages of his own issue very quickly, attempting to grasp the story through the illustrations alone.

“This main character is head over heels for the female love interest but he won’t just tell her,” Blaine says, “It’s not that hard! Just say it!”

Sam freezes up and raises his own comic slightly to cover his face, just in case his expression gives anything away.

“Sometimes it’s not that easy,” Sam says, keeping his voice casual.

“It’s always that easy,” Blaine says matter-of-factly, still flipping pages, “The worst thing that could happen is rejection.”

“Rejection can hurt!” Sam says, “You’re telling me that if you liked someone, no matter who they were, you’d just tell them?”

“Yup,” Blaine says, “That’s what I always do, you know that.”

“I do?” Sam asks, but Blaine just raises an eyebrow at him and rolls his eyes slightly as if he’s made a shitty joke, and they continue through the store.

The conversation replays in Sam’s head all day. He did know that Blaine was always open with his feelings, but deep down, Sam supposes he had been harboring some secret hope that Blaine could return his feelings. He’s not a terrible person, he knows that just because Blaine is gay and Sam is attractive that doesn’t mean that Blaine is automatically going to be in love with him. It’s just, sometimes Sam swears that Blaine gets a little too flustered when he takes his shirt off, and once or twice he’s caught Blaine staring at him during movie night. But apparently that was all in his head, because Blaine just told him directly that if he liked someone he would tell them, and if there is one thing Blaine wouldn’t do, it’s lie to him. 

Sam didn’t realise how much comfort the subconscious belief that Blaine could return his feelings brought him until it was gone. It’s not like Sam had been planning on acting on his feelings, or confessing, but he liked to think that maybe one day he would. The knowledge that he can never be with Blaine settles in Sam's chest, dark and heavy. It only spreads from there. Blaine laughs at one of his dumb jokes and and Sam’s head swims. They hold hands in the corridors to maintain their fake relationship and he feels like throwing up. He hears a love song on the radio that reminds him of Blaine and cries for like, an hour. Bit by bit, that dark and heavy feeling expands, spreading through his entire body, weighing him down. He googles “how to fall out of love”, but WikiHow has no decent advice for him. 

Blaine himself doesn’t seem to notice that anything has changed at all. They still hang out constantly, joke around in the hallways, play video games together, and they are yet to miss a single one of their weekly movie nights. Blaine catches him staring a few times, but instead of commenting he just raises an eyebrow in amusement and stares right back, starting an impromptu staring competition. This brings Sam some sense of relief. It reminds him that no matter what, he and Blaine will always be best friends. And that should be enough for Sam, it really should. Blaine is going to be in his life forever, he’s sure of that. They are going to graduate together, and move out of Lima together. Blaine will go to a nice college, and Sam will go where he goes, he would follow him anywhere. They’ll probably, hopefully, find a nice apartment together and fill it with shitty Ikea furniture. They’ll eat pizza on the floor in front of the TV and play video games together and never miss a movie night. Blaine will turn to him and tell him about the comic book he’s reading, and he’ll laugh, and Sam will spend the rest of his life trying not to think about what it would be like to kiss him. And it should be enough. It isn’t.

Yet the thought of not spending his life with Blaine doesn’t even cross Sam’s mind. It hasn’t been an option for him, not for a long time now. He’s going to stay, for as long as Blaine will have him. He supposes he will just have to get over Blaine, somehow move on. The thought of it makes Sam’s chest constrict painfully, but he knows it's the only way. The only other option is for Blaine to love him back, and Sam can do a lot of things, but changing the way someone feels is not one of them. And so Sam lays on his bedroom floor, wide awake at 4am, and wonders why he can’t seem to exist loud enough to make Blaine listen.

⁎

Sam can’t mope forever though, because, as Blaine so frequently reminds him, there is still a glee club to run.

They’ve had the setlist for sectionals down for a while now, thanks to Blaine’s meticulous planning and the input of the other New Directions, and so the only thing they have to focus on is rehearsals and the weekly lessons. They’ve had some great weeks so far, but as the bullet points in Blaine’s notebooks get crossed off one by one, they realise they are slowly running out of ideas.

“We need to appeal to the kids,” Blaine says, spinning around on his desk chair, “Find a theme that relates to what they’re going through in their own lives, you know?”

“The kids?” Sam laughs, laying on his back on Blaine’ bed with his head dangling upside down off the edge, hair brushing the carpet, “You make us sound like an old married couple.”

Blaine just shrugs and laughs, turning back to his notebook. He says something in response, Sam is sure, but he can’t hear it over the thoughts in his own head about him and Blaine and marriage and — he’s really in deep, huh?

“— and I know that Marley is going through her own stuff, too,” Blaine is saying, “So, what do you think?”

“Uh,” Sam says, sitting up on the bed, because he’s sure all the blood rushing to his head isn’t helping his concentration issue, “Yes?”

“You didn’t hear what I said, did you?” 

“Not a word.”

Blaine shakes his head fondly and circles something in his notebook with a pen. 

“A weekly lesson about self discovery? You know, learning about who you really are,” Blaine says, and Sam thinks he is a little too good at finding themes that relate to their own lives.

“Oh, yeah,” Sam says, “That sounds great!”

“Really?” Blaine asks, chewing on his lip, “I just think everyone in glee is really discovering who they are right now, and I think a lesson like this would really help them.”

“Absolutely,” Sam says, and wonders how long he can keep this up before Blaine sees right through him. He flops back down on the bed and lets his head dangle off the edge again, wondering how Blaine still looks good from an upside down angle. 

“Cool,” Blaine says, “So you’ll perform a song, right?”

Oh, shit.

“Well,” Sam starts, wondering why the universe hates him, “I don’t think I really have anything that fits the theme.”

“I’m sure you could think of something!” Blaine says, painfully oblivious, “C’mon, man, your performances are always the best.”

Sam wonders if getting a compliment from Blaine has always felt like a ball of light has made home in his chest. That’s new, right?

“Okay,” Sam says, because he is an idiot and also pretty sure he is incapable of saying no to Blaine, “I’ll give it a shot.”

“Perfect!” Blaine says, tossing his notebook onto his desk and heading over to join Sam on his bed, “Thanks, Sam.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says, shuffling over to make some room for Blaine to lay next to him. “I never said I’d actually be good.”

Blaine drops his own head over the edge of the bed, joining Sam in hanging upside down. 

“You’re gonna be great,” Blaine says softly. 

Sam looks over at Blaine. His curly hair is falling into his face, wild and messy, but for once Blaine doesn’t seem to care how it looks. He’s smiling softly at Sam, a genuine smile, one that only ever appears when it’s just the two of them. The last rays of sunlight are shining through Blaine’s window, casting a warm glow over his eyes, his cheeks, his lips.

_I love you_ , Sam thinks, _I love you, and I am going to let you break my heart._

⁎

Sam knows that he has to do a song about his feelings for Blaine, because this week's theme is way too relatable; the universe is clearly telling him something, and he doesn’t wanna piss off the universe. He spends hours scrolling through playlists of love songs, but none of them feel right. He mentally files through all the duets he and Blaine have sung together, and ends up landing on the time they sang at Sugar’s party. He doesn’t know much Taylor Swift, but maybe, with a bit of practice he could find something that would work. Before he knows it he has a web page titled ‘Taylor Swift Love Story Guitar Chords’ pulled up on his phone and is studying them intently, experimentally strumming at his guitar. 

That’s how it goes for the next few days. The second Sam is alone in his room he pulls out his guitar, strumming through the chords and studying the lyrics. He’s not sure why he wants this song to be perfect — it’s not like it’s _for_ Blaine or anything, it’s more just… something he needs to get off his chest. The terrifying thing is that he doesn’t know how Blaine is going to react. He’s not going to know the song is about him, but would he guess? Or would he assume it’s about someone else? Most likely, since Sam is pretty sure Blaine still thinks he’s straight. Sam knows that if Blaine questions him about the song, he’ll spill everything. He’s avoided letting Blaine know his true feelings for a while now, only because Blaine has never directly asked. The moment he does ask, Sam knows it will be all over. He can do a lot of things, but lying to Blaine Anderson is not one of them, not when it matters. He decides not to think about it too much. It can’t stress him out if he doesn’t think about it, Sam rationalises. Eyes closed, headfirst, can’t lose.

By the time glee club rolls around, Sam knows the song like the back of his hand which… in review isn’t that well, but he’s pretty confident. He’s got the chords down and his secret shameful Taylor Swift listening sessions mean that he’s sure that he knows all of the lyrics. He’s nervous the entire way through glee club. He’s not the only one performing today, and his leg shakes nervously as he watches Marley perform a beautiful song about loving herself, followed by a powerful ballad from Unique. When it’s his turn he rises from his seat and picks his guitar up off the floor next to him, sliding the strap over his shoulder as he makes his way to the center of the room.

“Hey,” Sam says, wincing a little at the sound of his own voice, “So, uh, over the last few days I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’ve made some realisations about myself. So I’m gonna… I’m just gonna sing.”

Sam takes a steadying breath and starts the song, all nerves immediately leaving his body once he opens his mouth. It all comes back to him naturally as he plays, and sure, maybe he looks at Blaine a few too many times, but he hasn’t managed to completely blow it. The others are already applauding as he strums the final note, and Sam mentally pats himself on the back for getting through it alive. His eyes drift over to Blaine, and the other boy gives him a thumbs up, mouthing the words ‘good job’. 

“That was beautiful, Sam,” Tina says, “But you and Blaine have been dating for a long time now, we already know that you love him.”

“Yeah,” Ryder chimes in, “The theme was self discovery, you can’t sing about something you already knew.”

God damn it. Sam hadn’t considered this. In the midst of realising his genuine feelings for Blaine and how badly he wants to date him, Sam had forgotten that the other New Directions were still under the impression that he and Blaine were dating. 

“Oh,” Sam says, desperately fumbling for an excuse, “No, no, this song was actually about me coming to terms with my love for… Taylor Swift.”

“Huh?” Jake says, raising an eyebrow, and the others seem to be in similar states of confusion or disbelief.

“Yeah, well,” Sam wipes his palms on his jeans, “I know a lot of people don’t like her, but I’ve been really looking deep inside myself recently and have come to terms with the fact that she’s, y’know, extremely talented and I just can’t hide it anymore. I love me some T-Swift.”

Nailed it. 

⁎

“So,” Blaine says the second they are alone in the choir room, packing up after the glee club meeting, “Taylor Swift, huh?”

Sam resists the urge to bang his head against the wall.

“Well,” Sam says, stacking a few chairs, “She’s a very good artist.”

“Good enough to dedicate your performance to her?” Blaine raises an eyebrow skeptically, and Sam caves immediately.

“Okay, you got me,” Sam says, “It wasn’t really about Taylor Swift.”

“Yeah,” Blaine laughs, “I kinda guessed that, Sam.”

“Oh, right.”

There’s silence for a few moments as they continue stacking chairs, before Blaine clears his throat.

“So, uh,” Blaine starts, sounding strangely nervous, “What was it really about? Do you… love someone?”

It’s in that moment that Sam realises it’s not quite nervousness that’s in Blaine’s voice, but something else. Something that sounds almost like hope. Sam knows that it makes no sense, that his mind is probably playing tricks on him, but it works well enough to give him the confidence he needs to just say the words.

“Well, yeah,” Sam wills his voice not to shake, “There is someone.”

Sam has never been this nervous in his entire life. He’s confessed to plenty of girls before, but with Blaine it’s different. Not just because he’s a boy, but because he’s _Blaine_. Sam’s best friend, his favorite person. If their friendship was ruined because of this, Sam would never forgive himself. But he also knows that he can’t hide it from Blaine forever, and he takes the plunge. 

“There is?” Blaine asks, averting his eyes and fiddling with the strap on his bag.

“Yeah,” Sam says, “He’s actually —”

“He?” Blaine says, quickly, breathlessly. 

“Oh, god, how do people do this?” Sam says, feeling slightly sick, “It’s you. I’m in love with you.”

Sam swears he has never heard a silence like the one that falls over the choir room in that moment. Blaine is just staring at him, frozen, his eyes wide. Despite everything, Sam can’t look at him and not feel love. It’s a strange sensation, as the emotion mixes with the pure terror that he’s already feeling, but it’s presence is a comfort. He is going to get his heart broken, and he will go home and cry and eat ice cream, and listen to sad songs on a loop, and he will love Blaine the entire time. He will always love Blaine. It’s a constant that is equal parts reassuring and painful.

“I’m so sorry, dude,” Sam says, “I know you don’t love me back, but I promise, I’m working on getting over it —”

“Sam. What are you talking about?” Blaine says, and he kind of sounds like he’s about to cry. 

Sam had really thought it was impossible for him to feel worse, but apparently the real theme of today is him being proved wrong. 

“I know, I know,” Sam says, “I’m meant to be straight and like, not head over heels for you, I don’t know what happened either.”

“Sam,” Blaine says again, and Sam thinks that he would never get sick of hearing Blaine say his name, even if he’s breaking his heart, “I have liked you this entire time.”

What.

“No,” Sam shakes his head, “No, that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.” Blaine says, and Sam can’t tell if he’s about to laugh or cry. Maybe both.

“But you said!” Sam says, praying this isn’t some kind of joke, “You said that you _always_ tell people when you like them!”

“And I did tell you!” Blaine says, “That time we were walking home from the arcade! I told you I have feelings for you, and you just said ‘that’s cool, dude’.”

“I had just won a Star Wars figurine, man! I was so distracted, I did not hear a word you said that entire walk home.”

“And you never managed to figure out that I like you from context clues?”

“There haven’t been any!” Sam says, trying to ignore the way hearing Blaine say ‘I like you’ makes his chest flood with warmth.

“Dude,” Blaine says slowly, “I literally told you two weeks ago that you were the first guy I’ve been into since my breakup with Kurt.”

“I thought you meant, like, as bros! I was confused!”

“ _Why_ would I mean as bros?” Blaine asks, but when he shakes his head it seems fond, “Sam, that makes absolutely no sense.”

“See, that’s why I was confused.”

Sam looks at Blaine then, really looks at him, and beneath the look of disbelief on his face, Sam finally sees it. Blaine is looking at him with the most open, unguarded expression that Sam has ever seen on him, and he finally realises what he must look like when he looks at Blaine. It’s love, that's for sure, and Sam's chest aches with it. 

Blaine crosses the choir room then, takes Sam’s hand gently in his own, and laughs. 

“You’re so stupid,” Blaine says, then kisses him. 

Sam feels like he is waking up from a very long rest. 

It’s like his heart has been working at half capacity his whole life, and only now is he realising how much it can hold. 

It's like it had all this empty space in it before that wasn’t being filled.

It’s like his heart is saying: _Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you._

⁎

“So...” Sam says later when they’re laying together on his bed, Blaine using his chest as a pillow as they watch a trashy romantic comedy.

“So…” Blaine says back, nudging Sam’s leg with his foot.

“What do we do now that we’re boyfriends?” Sam says, half because he’s genuinely curious, half because he just wants to say ‘boyfriends’ out loud. Blaine smiles at that, and Sam relishes the blush on his cheeks, wonders how he never noticed it before.

“Well, same thing we usually do,” Blaine says, “Eat pizza, play video games, read comic books. With just more kissing now, I guess.”

“Score,” Sam says, doing a little fist pump. 

“Dork,” Blaine snorts.

“Nerd,” Sam shoots back.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, and Sam tries to commit the feeling of Blaine in his arms to memory. He loops a finger around one of Blaine’s curls, gently tugging on it and letting it go, watching it spring back into place.

“I’m going to burn all of your hair gel,” Sam says.

“Okay,” Blaine replies, voice soft and sleepy, “I’m going to steal all of your hoodies.”

“Hey!” Sam complains, “You can’t have them.”

“Too late,” Blaine says, “I’ve already started the collection.”

“Did you break into my house and take my hoodie?”

“No, you just never asked for it back after you leant it to me when we got slushied,” Blaine says.

“Oh, right,” Sam says, “Hey, that reminds me, are we going to tell the New Directions about us? I mean they already think we’re dating, but should we tell them the truth?”

“We probably should,” Blaine hums thoughtfully, “We’d better tell Tina first, she’d be furious if she wasn’t the first to know.”

“We could call her right now?” Sam suggests, grabbing his phone off the bed next to him.

“Sure, why not?” 

She answers on the third ring.

“Sammy, for the last time, I’m not going to let you borrow my Taylor Swift albums.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Sam says, “Tina, I actually have some news. About me and Blaine.”

“Oh my god,” Tina says, already sniffling, “You broke up, oh my god, love is dead. Sam, you two can’t —”

“Tina! Calm down,” Sam says, “We didn’t break up. In fact, we weren’t actually dating in the first place. But, well, we are now.”

Tina’s crying stops abruptly.

“Oh good,” she says, no trace of tears in her voice, “You two finally figured it out then?”

“Wait, what?”

“That you two are in love and destined to be together forever and have a bunch of curly haired trouty mouthed children.”

“So you knew?” Sam asks, “You knew we weren’t really dating?”

“Of course I knew,” Tina scoffs, “What do you take me for? I only turned on the waterworks to keep you fake dating long enough to figure out your real feelings for each other.”

“Evil mastermind,” Blaine mutters from where his head is buried in Sam’s chest.

“Hi, Blainey-days!” Tina croons.

“Hi, crazy,” Blaine says.

“Hey!” Tina protests, “It worked, didn’t it?”

“...It may have,” Blaine begrudgingly admits.

“Exactly,” Tina says smugly, “Now, I have homework to finish. Have fun, lovebirds.”

“Cya, Tina” Sam says.

“Use protection!” Tina chimes, and the line goes dead.

“She’s scary,” Blaine mutters.

“I don’t know,” Sam hums, “She did help us get together. I think I’ll be forever in debt to her for that.”

“That’s true,” Blaine says quietly, eyes fluttering shut as Sam runs a hand through the boys curls, “I like to think we’d have figured it out ourselves, eventually.”

“Really? You think we could have?”

“‘Course,” Blaine mumbles, “I think in every universe we’d find each other.”

Sam looks down at Blaine, half asleep on his chest in the afternoon sun, and thinks about love songs, and how he understands every single one now. 

“I love you,” Sam says, not sure if Blaine is awake or asleep at this point. It doesn’t matter either way, really. Sam is sure he already knows. 

“Love you, too,” comes Blaine’s barely audible response before he completely succumbs to the insistent pull of sleep, melting against Sam with a quiet sigh.

Sam wonders why this isn’t scary, or difficult, or complicated. He wonders why it feels like, for the first time in a very long time, everything is going to work out. 

_It’s Blaine_ , says his heart, as if that explains everything. 

And in a way, Sam supposes it does. 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! talk to me about blam: JlMlN420 on twitter (the i's are l's) and magiclesson on tumblr ^___^


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